


Lute Playing

by RelarOfFire



Category: Kingkiller Chronicles - Patrick Rothfuss
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-30 20:35:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10884453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelarOfFire/pseuds/RelarOfFire
Summary: Kote plays lute again.





	Lute Playing

The day had been long and, as always, quiet. No one had the need to come in and out, no one needed drinks or a meal, and no one needed a break from the nice weather outside. While it was nice to not be flooded with work, it all left the innkeeper with itching fingers to keep busy. His hands rubbed together out of boredom over and over again, picking things up, putting them back down, pushing in and pulling out chairs; yet nothing helped. The man had already chopped and diced up vegetables and fruit earlier in the morning, swept, changed bed sheets and polished bottles. Normally, that would have all put him at ease, but the day was… strange. Nothing he did eased the itching feeling his his fingers, crawling to his palms and forcing him to tap his fingers. 

Having been sitting for the last hour, trying to occupy his mind to ignore his hands, the innkeeper gave up on such activity and pushed himself from the chair. There had to be something he was forgetting to do or somewhere he was forgetting to be. Once to his feet, he heard something something thick and full hit the floor with a mellow thud against the hardwood flooring. That wasn’t the sound of a chair or table, too light and not far enough clattering. Which had surprised him, giving him a half second thought that someone else besides himself and Bast were indoors. 

“What in Tehlu’s name…?” He muttered, stepping over the chair easily to the other side to find the source. At his feet laid a case, long and smooth; with a neck and a round bowl at the end. Staring at the case, Kote slowly drew his eyes away to see if there was anyone else he possibly forgot about hanging around he inn. Not catching sight of anyone, he sighed heavily and picked it up, running a hand over the thick case to make sure he hadn’t accidentally damaged it.

Smooth and cool, he set it on the table with a bit or relief. Well, it wasn’t broken, but now he had another issue to figure out -- who owned the instrument and how had it gotten into the inn without him noticing? Surely he would have noticed something like an instrument enter, be played, or some poor musician forgetting it and panicking. Yet, none of that had happened, leaving the red head more perplexed than before. Rubbing his chin as he thought, Kote tried to also recall if anyone in town played anything with such an odd shape. He was sure he had heard a few people who played smaller instruments, but nothing like the one in front of him. So how had it ended up in his inn? Who in Tehlu’s name put it there and just… left it?

With a small pause, Kote opened the case to check what was inside, not wishing for it to be money or something that would bring guard into the inn and cause more trouble than the had in the past. That was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

A lute? No one he knew o played lute in the town, nor anyone who rarely traveled through did either. Brows furrowing in confusion, Kote started to pull his hand away from the instrument, but paused, and placed his hand on the strings instead. Familiar feelings moved up his arm and into his mind; both good and some more depressing of sorts. But of all he were to notice first, was that the itching, uneasy feeling his his hands had started to fade as soon as he touched he case. Now it was nearly gone with touching the exposed lute and remembering how much he loved playing when he was younger. 

A tender smile passed his face, before he abruptly pushed it away, drawing his hand sharply as though he stuck his hand into flame. “No, no, no. No.” He muttered at himself, taking a step back and closing the case sharply. “No, I won’t… I can’t. I told myself I wouldn’t. It’s been too long anyway. Not mine, can’t play. Easy musician rules.” he hissed, shaking his head once more.

But it called to him… Oh, how it did. The lute nearly sang to him in its own hushed, gentle way; wanting to be turned and allowed to speak through its strings and resounds. The lute called to him to open up once more, allow for him to share his feelings in a way he knew best -- the best way anyone could ever express emotions in more depth than words ever could. It wanted to breath once more, as though not being played was holding in a breath longer than comfortable. Tempting and needing, it slowly drew Kote’s attention back to it, forcing him to open the case and at least look at the lute once more.

“Maybe…” He whispered, fingers gently curling around the lute’s neck and pulling it from its velvet casing. It was a little heavier than he remembered a lute ever being, but he easily sat and positioned himself with it; plucking a string, adjusting a peg, plucking again. Even though it had been years, it was as though all the information flooded back to his hands, doing their own thing and knowing how to treat the lute before he could even have a full thought. As has hands worked, his mind rolled back to find a song that he could play without ruining it too terribly.

There was a small silence and the innkeeper paused, debating if his idea was the best one to carry out or not. The inn was silent, he was silent, and the lute was silent. Then, music broke the air. Fingered pressed to the neck and other hand gently plucking the thin metal strings, music softly and gently filled the inn with a new sound it had never heard before. As new and soft as a first kiss; delicate and growing as a flower. His hands were nervous, his heart beat a little faster, but he played. Kote played for the inn, letting his heart fall to the strings and control his hands. Whether or not he sounded good and was doing well, he didn’t know. All that seemed to matter in that moment was that he was occupied and his heart was feeling lighter.

Little did he know that Bast was standing at the top of the stairs, waiting. Listening. Bast smiled happily and tried to keep his excitement contained, sneaking don a few more steps to hear the music a bit more clearly. Little did Kote know, Bast had set it all up on his own. The lute, the time, the position, everything. It had taken weeks to prep and get just right so Kote would play again. He was seeing Kvothe sitting there, not Kote the innkeeper. He was seeing who he deemed the true person he knew, playing lute and being himself. The smile grew on his face more, sitting on the steps of the stairs and listening to the human play while he could. 

And just for a little while, everything was good. Everything was okay again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading! If you liked this, let me know some how -- kudo or comment -- so I can keep writing! Want more KKC content? Follow me on tumblr: kote-the-inn-keeper.tumblr.com


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